


Andromeda

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-03-14 18:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18953593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: The King first sawhersitting on Dimaras Rock on Antar, and was so struck byherloveliness that he was terrified of approachingher.Or, Rosa was not the one in the pod.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt was: a story where alex was the one in the pod at the end not rosa?

Michael pulls up as soon as he’s ready to go.

Cursing their laughably bad timing, Alex forces himself to stand there. He said that he was ready to talk and they are going to talk. What he isn’t expecting is for Michael to get out of his truck and storm towards him, anger rolling off him in waves. Alex has never been afraid of Michael, even with everything he knows, but for the first time he feels something like fear. Whatever has happened, whatever reason Michael has for being late, its emotional cost is written all over his face. He storms over and Alex doesn’t back away even as Michael throws the chair in between the two of them to the side.

“What the hell are you?” He demands.

Alex frowns, not sure he understands. Michael is infuriatingly brilliant, just naturally things come to him faster than Alex has ever seen them come to anyone. He's quicker than most, it's been a while since he's known he's so far behind. It's been even longer since Michael was frustrated by his slowness. Alex glances down as the ground trembles, not enough that anyone would realize it but enough that he can feel it up his prosthetic leg.

“Excuse—“

“Answer the question," Michael snarls, "Or I swear to god, I will—“

“You’ll what?” Alex demands, meeting the challenge. 

Michael's features contort and Alex refuses to back down. Michael can throw whatever temper tantrums he wants, Alex hasn't been intimidated by some effectively since he got his Purple Heart. He sure as hell isn't about to start when it comes to someone in a position to break his heart. He doesn't care what kind of tantrum Michael is throwing. But all the bravado in the world can't keep him from being floored at what Michael says next.

“I found Alex! I know your secret so what the hell are you?”

Alex raises his eyebrows. His secret? Michael knows all of his secrets, even the ones he didn’t particularly want him to know. He has no idea what Michael thinks he found out, but from the look on his face it’s big. There’s no softness in his gaze or any of that underlying emotion he can usually tease out. It’s just rage and pain. And protectiveness. To his surprise another car pulls up and Isobel and Max come flying out. Michael turns fast and a wave of something rocks towards them. They both pull up sharply, Max holds his hands up like Michael is something wild. Wild and dangerous.

“Michael—“

“Shut up!” Michael snarls and turns back to him, “what the hell are you?” he repeats.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex says.

He looks from Michael to his siblings. Both of them look ill. And both of them look at him the same way that Michael does. Albeit with a lot less telekinetic warning. He hasn't seen that look on their faces since they were in high school and a pop quiz was announced. What he isn't expecting is for them to look at him like they are now. Like he's the thing they are dreading.

“You need to come with us,” isobel speaks up, “please.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s got much of a choice, he never wants Michael to look at him the way he’s looking at him. He can’t stomach Michael seeing his father when he looks at him too. He drives to the middle of nowhere and follows them along the desert to some nameless faceless cave. Alex wouldn't say that they are trying to kill him and hide the body, he's been in worse caves than this, but it is a lot creepy. Especially the further they go in. It's Michael who takes the lead while Max and Isobel hang back. He's effectively sandwiched between them. 

Tucked to the side is a big oblong object. Hatched, Michael said he hatched. Alex's mind shifts from oblong to egg. It's covered by a thick blanket, the kind that you can buy easily anywhere. Someone is hiding the egg here, it's tucked around the corner. You can't see it until you are completely in the cave. Michael crosses over to the egg, grabs the blanket and pulls it off. The cave floods with a warm pink light, constantly shifting but very bright. It takes Alex's eyes a moment to adjust. 

He isn’t expecting to see himself in there.

It’s pre-teenage him, from the spiked hair to the black lining his closed eyes to the chipped polish on his nails. He’s naked and the scars from his father across his back are so much fresher than they are right now. His legs, both of them, are tucked in front of him and his arms are around them. He's been posed, is the best way to describe it. Someone has posed a twelve year old version of himself. Even Alex he can see that whatever is in the pod is very, very dead. He can’t say it’s Alex Manes, he’s Alex Manes. This is something else.

“That’s not me,” He says.

“Don’t lie to me!” Michael roars.

“It’s not me!” He shouts, “that thing isn’t me. I’m right here,” he looks at the body, “that—“ he stops, “I don’t know what that is. But it’s not me.”

They don’t believe him.

Max and Isobel are still placed near the door, blocking the exit. Michael's fists are curled into balls, he's standing besides the egg but he's very careful to make sure that Alex can see the body curled in there. Twelve year old him. He feels sick. This was right around when his father's abuse got worse, right around when his brothers left--when his mom left. But the kid in there still had hope. He was still stupid and naive and suddenly Alex feels very, very old. 

“Look at him, that’s a kid! It’s not me,” he says, “he’s what? Twelve?” He shakes his head, “I’m not him.”

“So who the hell are you?” Max asks.

Alex looks at the body laying in the , clearly dead. It’s a kid. Right around the time his father’s abuse turned more violent and more physical, right around when his mom left. He doesn’t want the puzzle pieces to do anything, let alone start to assemble into something. He doesn't want there to be any grain of truth in what they are saying or what he is seeing. His phone vibrates and he takes it out, answering the call before anyone can stop him.

“Now isn’t—-“

“Your father attacked me and I put him in a coma,” Kyle blurts out, “I’m in jail I need you to call a lawyer for me and I figured you’d want to know.”

Alex hasn’t been relieved to see his father since he was younger than whatever is floating in the pod. But if anyone can tell him about what is going on, it’s a man who has spent his entire life fighting aliens. A man who never forgave him after he figured out he was gay. From the time he hit that age, his father looked at him like a monster. Homophobia, he tells himself firmly, he looked at him that way because of homophobia. Not because Alex was dead or a monster or anything. He turns from the pod and looks at the three of them.

“My father’s back,” he says, “he’s in the hospital.”

“Let’s go,” Isobel says.

Max nods and steps out first. He can bring him out of whatever is going on. Isobel walks to the cave entrance and waits, Alex can see her out of the corner of his eye. Michael lingers and unfolds the blanet, carefully covering the pod. If Alex had any doubts that Michael loved him, they are answered in the care he takes to make sure the corpse is covered. When Michael looks at him, it's not the same way. The venom and the anger is there, the accusation is heavy. He's sure that Michael loves Alex Manes. 

He’s just not sure that’s him.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex doesn’t remember the drive back.

It feels like he blinks and they are pulling up to the hospital. He's in shock. But he's spent years honing his ability to compartmentalize. To finish the mission no matter what is going on with him emotionally. He's fought an entire war with a hole where his heart should be and the ache to return to Roswell and throw himself into Michael's truck beating in it's place. Interrogating his father while he's just found a twelve year old version of himself is nothing in comparison.

Or maybe it's just the promise that there's a chance Jesse Manes isn't his father.

Alex has always told himself that the bonds of family matter. He's repeated it over and over like a mantra. He's learned that going across the world does not erase the DNA he shares with Jesse Manes. Bravery does not erase the cowardice of Flint and his brothers. Coming back does not change the fact that he's related to a woman who ran away. He holds these truths there and guards against stupid things like hope. These are the realities of the world, they are what matter. The world looks nice but he knows what lurks underneath that appearance.

The promise that he might not be related to Jesse is what gets him out of the car. He feels Michael reach for him but Michael and his desires are back in the box he tucks them into so he can focus. He makes his way through the hallway and finds the room that his father is in. By the time he gets there, whatever Kyle put in him has worn off. He's aware. He's awake. Sitting up in bed and still managing to have that kind of tense authority that Alex has always found secretly awkward and done his best not to emulate.

Alex knows there are several ways to play this but he goes for the one that gets them on the same page the quickest. He doesn't have the mentality for anything else. He needs to know. He needs to know now. When he turns he sees the other aliens there and he closes the door. He locks the door in their faces, he doesn’t care. They don't get to hear this before he does. Jesse Manes greets him with a tilt of his head and a guarded expression and Alex goes for it.

“I found Alex’s body,” he says.

For the first time he can remember, Jess’s shoulders relax.

Alex feels sick. Sicker than he did a moment ago. Jesse Manes has always looked like he has carried the weight of having a monster for a child. Now Alex can see the grief for what it is. That kid is twelve. Alex doesn't know what happened but he knows no kid deserves to be dead and forgotten like that. But Jesse hasn't forgotten. He's hidden it. The entire time he thought his father hated him because he was a monster, because he was gay. Not because he was a monster who murdered his kid. After years he could say that he didn’t deserve to be hated for what he was. The loss of that certainty rocks him even before Jesse looks up at him.

“You preserved it,” he says.

”He’s twelve,” Alex shoots back, “I saw the belt marks. It’s right before mom left."

Jesse looks at him, silent and defiant but hollow.

"Where is his body?" he asks, "I want to bury him."

"I’ll take you to the body, I want to know what happened and why you would bring a monster home. Why don’t I remember?” Jesse is quiet, “do you want your sons body or not?!” He demands.

Jesse reacts to that and Alex feels sick. He always longed for the day when his father was afraid and he was in charge. But not like this. Never like this. Alex isn't stupid. He knows that he's killed kids before. But he's always tried not to. He's always tried to save them. Alex Manes is a twelve year old boy from Roswell. Not a kid in a war. When he thinks about being twelve he thinks about being hopeful, optimistic, just discovering who he was and what he could do.

“Alex was smart and inquisitive,” he says, “never took no for an answer. I thought he was ready,” he looks down, “I was such a fool,” he looks at Alex with venom that suddenly makes a lot more sense, “You killed him. You took his face. His body. Everything.”

“You brought him to Caulfield?!” Alex stares at him in horror, the image of a kid running around that place making him sick.

“He needed to know,” Jesse says, "he needed to understand what was at stake. We didn't have you in proper containment yet. You broke free."

Alex fights the urge to vomit.

“You needed to bring an Alex home,” he says.

Jesse Manes couldn't just not have an Alex when he came home. He could have faked his death but if he couldn't figure out how to contain whoever Alex is, he could lie to him. Alex has long since learned the feeling of being betrayed by your own body. But being betrayed by your own super powers is a new and bitter sensation. There's nothing alien about him, he's seen his own lab results. Doctors have been inside him. He pushes the shock into it's own little box and focuses instead on the information. He's powerful. He's dangerous. He can appear completely human.

"So you contained me by bringing me home," he says, "is that why m--" he stops. She's not his mother, "is that why she left?"

"She never knew," Jesse says, "I never told her. But she could feel something was wrong with you. Mothers always know on some level," he looks at him coldly, "do they even have those where you come from?"

"Yes. You were keeping most of them locked up," he snaps.

Michael kicks out of his box and he remembers him staring at his mother with such hope in his eyes. Such promise. Guilt roars back through him and he wonders how much of Jesse Manes' actions stem from the murder of his son. Alex has rarely allowed himself to imagine having kids. But even he can imagine that if their positions were changed he would want to kill anyone who was even remotely like them.

“It wasn’t all a loss,” he says, “the military—“

“You brought me home and tortured me for six years!” Alex says, suddenly not caring about anything else. Jesse doesn’t even flinch, “and you were beating your son. I saw the scars. Those were from you.”

“He needed discipline,” Jesse says, unapologetic before his gaze hardens, “you were an experiment,” Alex feels sick, “everyone could sense you were wrong. You are a poison. You destroyed everyone in my family.”

Alex can accept he is a monster, he thinks. What he won’t accept is the blame for Jesse’s sick experiments. They might both be monsters but the kid in that bubble did not put those belt marks on himself. When Alex thinks about the first twelve years of his life, happiness is not something that comes to mind. There’s no hollow promise of blood when he looks at Jesse, just a sick man in a hospital bed. He steps back.

“Where is my son?” Jesse demands, “you said—“

“I lied,” Alex cuts in, “your son is right here.”

He leaves before Jesse can respond. There's nothing else here for him and nothing that will make him better. He needs to go somewhere quiet, somewhere where he can puzzle all of this out. When he steps out of the room, the three of them all snap towards him. Fixing him with an eerie expression that is identical on three very different faces. He can pick out the differences between Max's guarded look, Isobel's curiosity and Michael's anger. Where does he even fit in this strange group? Does he even fit into it. He realizes that he can't be here. He can't face them. Realization crashes onto Michael's face and he starts forward, his mouth opening.

Alex turns and walks away. 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s a miracle that he gets home.

It’s even more of a miracle that he gets down to his bunker without breaking his neck. There are three ways that this can go:

The first, Jesse Manes covered everything up.

The second, Jesse Manes documented things.

The third, there’s nothing.

The easiest way to start is with what he does know.  He was not a lifelong prisoner of Caulfield. He was free for a time. But around the time Alex Manes was twelve he was taken to Caulfield, he was there briefly and then he murdered Alex and took him over. None of the other aliens seem to have an issue with the containment. Again there are two possibilities.

One, everyone’s containment procedure is the same and he’s different.

Two, all underwent some kind of a trial period until they found what worked.

Again he forces himself not to make this emotional. Emotions come later. This is survival. There are two sides. Him and everyone else and if he does not survive, this is for nothing. You sign up for the trauma when you go to war. It’s part of the deal. Coming home and dealing with your trauma is a privilege that not all who go off get. He can be alive and revel in the pain later, right now he has to get the job done.

Jesse Manes was never the kind of father who couldn’t understand a cell phone or how technology worked. As he’s gone through more and more technology training, he realizes how unique that is. He never saw it as suspicious. He could always just chalk it up to another thing that made his relationship with his parent strange. But his peers largely seemed surprised at how good his father was when it came to technology. When he finds the newspaper scan, it’s a bit strange given how clear it is with what he knows about the timeframe. His dedication to not focusing on anything but what is going on in front of him and getting the information he needs is very sorely rocked by the clarity of the photos.

It’s Noah.

Isobel’s husband Noah. He looks exactly the same as he did when Alex saw him a few days ago. The man isn’t Keanu Reeves or Paul Rudd. He can’t go ten years and look identical. The photo is alarmingly clear for a scan from a newspaper. But there’s barley any change in his appearance. He looks angry. Betrayed. The headline claims he is the lone survivor of a bloody and terrible car crash. Several other victims are listed among them. Alex forces himself to detach from the newspaper. Noah being immortal is nothing compared to the news that he may have been someone Alex knew. Or whoever Alex was before he was this. He breathes into the knots his stomach twists itself into and goes into the coding, digging deeper until the cover that is the newspaper scan gives way to his own file.

Two decades is laid out in all his personal communications. There are reports and interviews with doctors. Reports. mostly from Jesse on how he reacts to stressors. His six years of abuse are stress tests. Maybe the most unbelievable thing about finding out Michael was an alien was trying to understand why he didn’t fight back against his father. Now apparently he knows. Though according to the observations it seems that his powers have been in use the whole time. His body, his mind, his memories—all of it is seamlessly someone else. As he reads down the file though, he finally gets to the part that he was scared of. Alex is proud of his military service. He’s proud to serve. Despite his father’s manipulation, despite the price he’s paid, he’s proud of it.

Right up until he sees himself referred to as a number.

His ten digit DoD ID number.

That random string of ten numbers isn’t random. It’s the number Project Shepherd gave him, the number they referred to him in all of their observations. Jesse Manes uses that number in place of his name in all of his reports. The Air Force uses it in all of theirs. It’s his name. His name is not Alex, it’s a ten digit string of numbers. He’s always hated the last name Manes, but he’s always liked his name. Or his nickname anyway. The one he demanded to be called when he turned twelve and decided that only old men were called Alexander. Like his grandfather. Alex was a cool name. Alex was his name. His choice.

He shoves himself away from the computer.

He doesn’t vomit, he doesn’t lose the ability to breathe, but he can’t be there. He can’t stare at his file. The words don’t make sense anymore. He’s a number, not a name. He fumbles his way up the ladder, but it occurs to him that Michael, Isobel and Max are probably outside. With the way this day has been going, his father is there too. Maybe this is going to truly turn into an episode of Game of Throne and he’s going to find out that he’s just related to everyone. How can he not know he’s an alien? How can he be this betrayed by the one place that he has always thought of as safe?

The world swims nauseatingly. His desire to run seems to be overcome by the powerful need to sit down. He manages to make it over to the couch, and drop down on it. Did Jim Valenti know? He had to have known. The world is suddenly sharply divided into possible people who knew, people who didn’t. But his sharp and easy list and all his neat mental boxes are swimming together under the overwhelming desire to just take a deep breath and sit there with his head between his hands.

“Alex.”

He looks up at Michael who crouches in front of him, still wearing his hat and looking at him with some combination of anger and confusion and genuine concern. Alex wishes that it was anger. He’d like anger better. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Isobel step forward, her eyes locked on him. Behind her Max is standing, his expression still unreadable. But Max seems to look stunned, tortured or miserable. Or that.

“My name’s not Alex,” he says.

The three of them trade looks. Alex reminds himself through the overwhelming desire to close his eyes and rest that Alex isn’t his name. It’s not. Alex Manes is dead in a cave somewhere. He’s in an egg and he’s dead and he killed him. He doesn’t know why he yawns. Michael moves forward quickly as the desire to close his eyes overwhelms everything. He’s so good at staying one step ahead of it. But it’s just another betrayal in a long line of them. That’s the other thing. Eventually your body does win. Eventually you do have to listen to your hurts, he just used to be able to stay one step ahead of them a lot better.

“Jesus, Iz,” Michael scolds as Alex presses his face into the couch and fights the urge to sleep.

“We need to figure out how to deal with this,” Isobel snaps, “he needs to just stay there. For now. If it runs we’re back at square one.”

“He’s Alex,” Michael cuts in, his voice back to the same kind of anger, “this is Alex. Don’t call him ’it’.”

“Sorry,” Isobel says.

The blanket that he drapes over the couch is suddenly on top of him. Alex wants to say that they are wrong. He’s not Alex. But the insistence of sleeping presses harder and it’s the one desire he finds himself unable to outrun. Someone might touch his forehead but he also might imagine it.

He knows that’s not Michael’s left hand.


	4. Chapter 4

He wakes up alone in his living room.

He pushes himself up slowly, moving the blanket to the side. Once Alex is up, he’s up. He knows that it has to do with not wanting to be in a vulnerable position. He always thought it was because of his abusive father. Now he knows that’s not the cause of any of this. Not really. What overwhelms him isn’t the shift in his own world, it’s his curiosity over Alex. That kid in the pod. He’s had a claim to this identity longer but that kid is Alex Manes.

There is a commotion in the other room and he follows the sound to find the aliens having a whispered argument. Or as whispery as any of them get. He sighs around the cotton wool in his head, finally letting the explanation slot into place. He looks at Isobel who at least has the grace to blush before the overwhelming desire to ignore everything and sleep retreats from his head.

“What did you find?” He asks.

“Uh,” Max starts and goes faintly red, looking at Michael.

Alex keeps his gaze on Max, not giving him the out he wants. There’s also the small fact that dealing with Michael hating him on top of everything else isn’t something he’s capable of doing at the moment. He needs something to put the world just a little right. Max squirms for another moment and opens and closes his mouth a few times before hanging his head, blowing out a breath and looking at him.

“You were my consort,” Max says.

Right before high school started, he may have had a crush on Max. Just a small one, one he never had any intention of saying anything about. Ever. Especially not when he fell for Michael in a way that made that first crush look stupid and Max became a friend. A good friend. One he wasn’t in love with anymore. He never thought too much about the crush he had, after all a twelve year old falling for a boy who was nice to him when he felt like a stranger in his own skin—

“Shit,” he says.

“Oh shit?” Michael repeats, “you two got married. For love.”

“Michael—“ Max warns him off.

Alex can’t look at him.

Maybe if he focuses hard enough, he thinks, he can remember. Maybe there’s something in Max that unlocks something. But Max just looks like an old friend and Alex just feels like himself. Whoever that is. He turns away in frustration and Max sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It’s ninth grade chemistry all over again. It’s an inappropriate thought to have, he realizes, but gallows humor has always been his style.

“So we were married,” he says, “and you’re a King?”

“According to Noah,” Max explains.

  
“Noah was in my file, maybe he—“ he stops as they all look interested in literally everything but him, “where is he?”

“Max killed him,” Michael says, a smugness to his voice.

The mood in the room shifts, it’s like being in one of those air freshener commercials. It’s saying something that this murder apparently charges things a lot more than the murder that he seems to have committed. It reeks of hypocrisy. Max scowls and focuses in on Michael.

“He was in Isobel’s head!” Max snaps, “he was going to kill all of us. He needed to die.”

“What about this?” Michael demands suddenly a lot closer and shoving his hand in Max’s face, “did this need to happen too?!”

Alex stares at the smooth skin of Michael’s hand.

He’s wondered why it was never fixed, especially after finding out about the aliens and their abilities. Guilt, reminder, penance, all of them fly through his head and form theories. But most of all he gets the feeling it’s Michael’s choice and everyone respects that. Injuries and scars can become personal. Like birth marks. His back itches as he thinks of the marks whipped there by Jesse Manes. He doesn’t know who he is without them—literally. They aren’t his. There are others but these belong to someone else.

“Would you two stop it?” Isobel demands, getting in between them, “we have bigger things to deal with right now.”

“No.”

They all turn towards him. It’s never fun when all three of them wear the same expression. He’s used to it with their walls up. It’s even more unsettling knowing they are aliens, having those walls go even in the most subtle of ways. None of them are particularly subtle. Alex waits for the feeling of wanting to go to sleep to rise up but there’s nothing except his own exhaustion. He rubs the side of his face.

“I’m the same person you’ve known since you were twelve, this doesn’t affect anything,” he says, “I don’t remember whatever Noah knew, so those answers are where they always have been. Even if Jesse finds the body, I’m a perfect copy of Alex. No one will believe him,” he says all of it methodically, not looking at any of them directly, “so there’s nothing to worry about.”

They all stare at him.

“What do you mean those answers are where they always have been?” Isobel asks.

“Buried somewhere,” he says.

“Iz!” Michael says her name sharply, “I thought you were getting out of his head.”

She immediately turns defensive.

“I’m not,” she says. Alex still can’t bring himself to look at Michael, “I’m not! This is him!”

Something in Michael seems to snap and then despite all of Alex’s efforts to look literally anywhere else, he’s in front of him. There’s an odd thing that happens when Michael gets in front of him. It’s impossible not to look at him. It’s very difficult to not have his entire world narrow to just Michael. Usually it’s just a frustrating thing Alex accepts grudgingly. He deals with it. In the new light, it creates more questions than he ever wanted it to. Michael’s eyes sweep over him again and again like he’s looking for something that isn’t there. The resolve on his face gets even more stiff and he looks back at them.

“We should go,” Isobel says, reaching for Max.

“No,” Alex says at the same time Michael nods, “I need something first,” he says. He may as well use the emotional shock while he has it. Before the pain hits. He looks at Isobel, “I need my name.”

“Your what?” She frowns.

“My name,” he says, “I’m not Alex,” he ignores the sound Michael makes, “I need to know what my name is. It’s in there somewhere.”

“In your head,” she repeats.

“I want to know it,” He says, “that’s what you do isn’t it? I need it.”

These aliens need a lesson in permission but for this he’ll give it. Isobel trades looks with the rest of them before she focuses on him. That same overwhelming desire swells up. But there’s nothing physical about it. It’s not the desire to do anything, it’s just the desire to know something. To say something. He has a name that he’s forgotten and if he takes nothing else he can take that.

“I’m Avim,” he says, the name odd on his tongue but also inexplicably right, “my name’s Avim.”


	5. Chapter 5

There are things Max knows beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

He’s in charge of Michael and Isobel. Not in the way that he tells them what to do, most of the time, but in the way that he is responsible for their safety. He usually fails in keeping them safe, in a thousand ways. He knows he loves Liz. Beyond hope or reason and that if he thinks about it on paper, it’s a little creepy in a way he really, really wishes it wasn’t. He tries to make up for that. Without making it worse. He’s a little better at that then at keeping Michael and Isobel safe. Max knows he’s bad at a lot of secrets, great at keeping a fundamental few and up until a few hours ago the idea of killing a family member was unfathomable. 

He also knows he’s power high.

There’s no real way to describe it otherwise. He doesn’t have the words. This is an acetone high times a thousand. It’s hard to think straight. The knowledge that it comes from the monster who was inside his sister for so many years makes him want to vomit. He wants any trace of Noah eradicated from the him, from the universe—from everywhere. Noah shouldn’t exist. And watching Michael rub his knuckles and thinking of Liz sitting in front of her sister’s grave, he’s not sure he’s much better. Max has always been aware of his privilege. Hyper aware of it when he compares himself to Michael. Some of it he’s never been able to control. But the one two punch of healing Michael and discovering he was married to Alex at one point crosses every god damn line Max can think of. 

“I’m not gay,” he says abruptly into a moment of silence after Alex remembers his name, “or bi or—“ he waves a hand around. Shit, what are the other terms? He can’t remember, “I love Liz,” he says and both his siblings roll their eyes at the familiar terms. Alex just stares at him, “we’re not—“ he looks at Michael who looks away, “Michael, come on,” He pleads.

“I gotta get some air,” Michael says and storms out. 

Alex looks down.

It’s weird how things can suddenly make sense. Michael and Alex have been actively avoiding looking at each other isobel seems to have picked up on it too given the look she has as she gets up and goes after Michael. Max wants to call her back, but Michael is livid at him and when he turns he realizes that he probably needs to talk to Alex anyway. It’s very clear that Alex is in emotional shock and Max doesn’t exactly blame him. He’s been in that state on and off his entire life. And he’s known he was an alien since birth.

“You’re the only Alex we know,” he says. Alex focuses on him with the same quiet intensity he always has, “not the one we met but you’re the one we know.”

“That’s because I murdered a kid,” he says.

“We killed someone too around that time. A drifter,” he says, “he attacked Isobel.”

“That was self defense.”

“You got locked up,” Max says, “you were trying to get out.”

“I should have killed Jesse,” Alex says flatly. Max wholeheartedly agrees, “but I didn’t,” he says, “I killed his son.”

Max doesn’t have the words to reassure him. It’s an objectively monstrous thing to do, killing a kid. But they’re aliens. Actually he and Alex are the ones who killed. Michael and Isobel’s hands are clean. Max absolutely refuses to count Noah as anything except a monster. Max tries to be sympathetic to him, but his mind keeps circling back around Michael. Around the conversations that they’ve had about what he feels for Alex. Max goes over to him, closing the distance between them. 

“I’m not—“

“I don’t love you,” Alex cuts him off, giving him the least vacant look he’s had all day, “if that’s where this is going.” 

“I want to make sure,” Max says, “I have Liz and Michael—“

“Don’t.” 

He’s surprised at how quick Alex is to shut the topic down. But there is no discussion to be had from him about Michael. On one hand it’s odd considering the previous topic of conversation, on the other, he recognizes the dark look in Alex’s eyes for what it is. His relationship with Michael isn’t something he’s willing to discuss. Not with Max at least. The protectiveness is something Max recognizes, something he definitely approves of. It’s the same way that he feels when anyone brings up Liz. Whatever he and Alex were to each other in another life, on another world, it doesn’t have a place here. 

“You need to tell Michael,” he says. Alex gives him a truly withering look, “he’s not gonna believe me.”

The withering look only gets worse in the face of his quiet plea. Max forces himself to calm down. Which is not easy. The unfortunate truth is that Noah has always been on the periphery. Included as much as they can but not as much as Liz. He and Michael have always viewed him kind of like prom. It’s something Isobel wants and there’s no inherent harm in it so they support her. Alex is not like that for Michael. He’s in the Liz category and Max puts everything into not reacting to the fact that Alex looks like he wants to kill him. 

“Stay out of it,” Alex says.

“He’s my brother,” Max reminds him, failing spectacularly on the not reacting front and forgetting Alex is the last person to give family a free pass, “I love him, whatever happens between us.”

That seems to resonate with Alex and any doubt Max had about Michael’s feeling being reciprocated vanishes.

“Look,” He says, “I got the family, I got a lot of things I had no control over,” he says, “but I had them, you know Michael didn’t. You cannot be one of them,” he continues, “whatever happened before, it doesn’t matter right now. He needs to know you’re not one of them,” Max has only begged two people in his life. He isn’t in a hurry to grow that list, “please.”

Alex looks at him silently. His look is hard but not like it was before and Max silently prays that he’s made a point. He thinks he has a good one, but at the moment he’s not sure he trusts his judgement that much. But finally Alex nods and stands up. Belatedly Max jumps to his feet and Alex turns sharply, like he’s expecting Max to stop him. Apparently he’s not quite done on the begging front though. 

“I need—“ he stops, “can I fill Liz in?” He asks, “she knows about the three of us,” the hard and intelligent look in Alex’s eyes folds away and Max wants to kick himself, “I don’t want to keep secrets from her anymore,” he admits.

“Secrets like we were married?” Alex deadpans and Max fights the urge to cheer at the fact that he maybe hasn’t fucked it up, “keep me and Michael out of it,” he says.

Max nods as Alex goes off to talk to Michael and he pulls out his phone.

As it starts to ring he realizes that of all the things Alex could have said were off limits, the only one he mentioned was his relationship with Michael. Surprise almost makes him drop the phone as it rings and goes to voicemail. Of all the things, Alex puts his own life shattering news behind protecting Michael. He hangs up without leaving a message and texts her instead, asking her to call him.

He doesn’t trust his voice in the moment. 


	6. Chapter 6

Alex hates going into battle unprepared

This feels worse than his actual first battle. Back then he didn’t know the consequences. Now every hurt is phantom present, digging in already. Michael does not tolerate hurting his family. Isobel and Max are not expendable. Michael is, they aren’t. Alex knows that. Max had a point. Michael will just accept this as another thing Max gets. Pushing aside his own anger at that, he forces himself to acknowledge that his own actions probably play a role in this. He thought his biggest thing was going to be convincing Michael to give him another chance, not finding out he was a different person. Alien. Alex mentally cringes at how confusing all of this is.

He finds Michael standing with Isobel.

They aren’t talking.

Isobel has one arm around his shoulder, her other is on his forearm. Alex’s arms are tight around himself as he stares ahead. His gaze lifts up and Alex swallows tightly. He hates that whenever he sees that look on Michael’s face, it always goes back to him. Him, his family, who he thought were his family anyways. A new thought occurs to him, he wonders if he and Michael have always been like this. Across lifetimes and worlds, how many worlds have they done this on? He doesn’t know if he has the same connection with Max and Isobel, he’s comfortable with them but the bond is nothing like he has with Michael. Not this time. Isobel opens her mouth but Michael beats her to it.

“I guess we’re having that talk after all,” he says.

Alex lets out a sound that he intends to be a laugh.

“Give us a minute?” He asks.

Isobel looks at Michael who nods. She gives him a look that’s half pity and half a promise to fuck him up later and leaves them alone. Alex fights the very real urge to run. When he envisioned talking to Michael it was just the two of them, talking about the very odd place they had found themselves in. They were going to talk about them. Best case they were going to reach some kind of understanding and he was not going to change things a few days later. Now they’ve skipped the understanding part, but somehow once again Alex realizes he’s managed to shatter Michael’s world. Distance has long been Alex’s best defense when it comes to them. Looking at Michael is crippling in every sense of the word. Alex is a strategist, he’s had to be. Now he has no strategy, he doesn’t even have the truth.

“I didn’t know,” he says.

“I know that,” Michael replies.

“You do?” Alex questions, surprised.

Michael nods and runs his tongue over his bottom lip, straightening up. Alex might be slightly taller, but in this moment he’s never felt smaller. Not when it comes to Michael anyways. Michael’s a miserable liar but his expression is unreadable. That’s a chilling thing to see. It means that Michael doesn’t know how he feels about any of this. Alex wishes desperately that he did so he could follow Michael’s lead, even as he knows that’s not fair. He doesn’t know how he feels about all this. He’s still fairly numb about it. Still intent on surviving from one inhale to the next. He feels removed from everything.

“You and Noah both managed to pass as human,” he says.

“I don’t know how,” Alex says honestly, “I don’t know what we did,” he swallows, “I know what I did.”

“You ever black out?” Michael asks, his voice deceptively casual.

“What are you asking me?” Alex questions.

“Did you ever black out?” Michael asks, “it’s an easy question Alex, yes or no?”

“Why are you asking me?” Alex demands around the dread that settles in his stomach.

“Because your little alien bff murdered a lot of people and used my sister as a puppet,” he snaps.

“And you think I’d do that to you?!” Alex questions.

“I don’t know what you’d do!” Michael shoots back, “you left me behind because you wanted to!”

Alex reels back because of all the places he saw this going, again, this isn’t one of them. In the span of a few moments Michael has accused him of being a murderer, bffs with a man he met a handful of times and then used his own words against him. And the truth is that Alex doesn’t know which is worse. The murder thing should be the worst, but the murder doesn’t feel real. His words from last night, however, those are very real. And Michael is pissed off. Alex is numb but he can feel the pot of emotions slowly being set to boil. Michael has always had the ability to crank the heat on those. He gets Alex to that point faster than his father, his brothers—faster than anyone or any number of people combined. Alex doesn’t have defenses against him, none that work. Even the shock he feels about finding out he’s an alien pales in comparison to Michael picking at the wound from last night.

“Well I walked right into the next phase of an experiment, if that makes you feel better,” Alex snaps.

“Actually it doesn’t,” Michael shoots back, “that had nothing to do with me. I didn’t even know you were an alien.”

“Grow up!” Alex snarls back at him, his patience snapping, “we’ve been manipulated this entire time! My father knew you were an alien. This entire thing has been a set up.”

“So why didn’t he set you up with your husband?” Michael demands.

“I don’t know!”

Michael scoffs.

“There’s a shock,” he throws back.

Everything in Alex screams that he needs to get the hell out of there. They’re reaching that point, that point that he doesn’t think they can come back from. On some level he’s been protecting Michael from himself. From his ugliness, from his cruelness—maybe on some level from the fact that he’s a god damn alien. But he’s always managed to get out before Michael gets past those layers. He can dig deep but not to the very bottom. Alex doesn’t want him to see that. The terrifying thing, Alex realizes, is that as much as he’s thought he knew the darker places and what to protect people from—he has no idea. He doesn’t know where the bottom of this is. But he knows he doesn’t want to find out with Michael watching.

“I didn’t come out here to talk about last night,” he says.

“No, you came out here because we just found out you were married to my brother,” Michael says, his eyes glinting, “in addition to everything else,” he looks at him, “we’re not together, Alex. Remember?”

Alex shakes his head.

“You don’t gotta come check on me!” Michael says, defensiveness coming from every word, “I’m here because you’re an alien,” the urge to run increases tenfold, “I’m here because I love my family,” he continues, stepping into Alex’s personal space, “I wasn’t coming back to the trailer.”

It’s a stupid, stupid thing to be hurt by.

He’s felt the frustration, he’s felt the annoyance, but mostly he’s been in shock. But with a handful of words, something white hot and painful slices through all the numbness. Michael wasn’t coming. He was going to sit there for hours, waiting and wondering and Michael wasn’t going to be there. He knew there was a chance but he thought, he hoped—immediately he kicks himself. Stupid. Hoping was stupid. It always is when it comes to them. He doesn’t give Michael anymore satisfaction as he looks at him coolly. Anger flashes in Michael’s eyes but Alex makes a turn off whatever attempt he’s making at the high road.

“So where were you going to go?” He asks. Michael scoffs, “clearly you want me to know, so where were you going to go?”

“I was going to go to Maria,” Michael says.

Alex feels his heart break.

It’s an odd feeling, one he thinks he should be familiar with. But it’s new and it’s painful all the same. He’s an alien, the entire world is different but Michael was about to go to Maria. A thousand questions catch behind Alex’s teeth. How long have they been circling each other? How much bullshit did Maria spew that night when she brought up Michael and the museum and everything? How is it that suddenly him being an alien is not the most damning secret hanging between them. Michael’s eyes glint and Alex forces himself to be steady as he looks at him.

“Do whoever you want, Guerin,” he says, “we aren’t together.”

Michael’s look turns positively venomous and shockingly pained but Alex refuses to care. Maybe it’s petty. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe he doesn’t give a shit if Michael has been circling Maria for the past decade while he’s been pining. Dreaming of him. He thought that the worst he was going to have to deal with was a minor std from someone Michael picked up in a bar. Not the fact that Michael might be in love with his friend. His heart, Maria’s heart, none of it is simple. He doesn’t know what to do with that kind of betrayal and Michael only knows how to use it to push him away. Michael raises his chin as if he’s daring Alex to say something and Alex, God help him, takes the bait.

“You should call her,” he says, “unless you get off on making people wait around.”

“Fuck you,” Michael snarls, “you don’t get to give me shit about a few hours after all this time.”

“Time that you spent falling for someone else!” Alex throws back in his face, “you don’t get to use that excuse anymore.”

“Says the man who was married to my brother,” Michael grabs at the last thread he can and Alex curls his lip in disgust.

“Call her,” he says, “don’t break her heart with your bullshit too.”

Shaking his head he turns to go.

He sees Michael tremble with anger and he braces himself, but nothing happens. Michael tries to make it happen, but it doesn’t. Alex knows because Michael freezes and his expression shifts from anger to shock to something a lot closer to horror. Alex doesn’t know if Michael is afraid of him or of what has just happened, but Alex realizes he’s done something distinctly alien. They both have. And though his fledgling powers should be the thing that shocks them both, the only thing that he circles around is the fact that Michael just used his powers on him. Or tried to anyway. The one thing that’s kept him from seeing Michael as anything close to a monster evaporates. Michael steps forward and Alex backs away. Instead of holding a hand up, he reaches for his sidearm. Michael follows the line of his hand and then flied back to his face.

“Alex—“

“Don’t,” Alex says, “don’t. I—“ he turns and decides that putting his back to him is beyond what he can do right now, “just stay there,” he says.

Michael holds his hands up.

Alex goes inside, for the first time he feels like an alien.


End file.
